Kura stood there, stunned, his heart racing as the weight of her words sank in. Slowly, uncertainly, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around her shaking frame.
For the first time in years, he felt… not abandoned. Not alone.
And for Lila, the cold mask she always wore had finally shattered.
They clung to each other in silence, the world beyond his dorm room forgotten. For Kura, the warmth of her tears soaking into his shirt was more real than the two weeks of emptiness he'd unknowingly slept through. For Lila, his heartbeat beneath her ear was proof that the person she had protected, watched over, and prayed for wasn't just a fleeting memory.
At last, Lila pulled back, though her hands lingered on his sleeves as if she feared he would vanish again. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her composure cracked, yet there was still that defiant glimmer—the Lila Frost who rarely let anyone in.
"You really scared me, you idiot," she whispered, trying to laugh, though her voice was hoarse. "Two weeks. Do you even realize how long that is? You've been lying there, not moving, not saying a word… like a corpse. Everyone thought you were gone."
Kura blinked, his stomach sinking. "Two… weeks?"
"To you, it might've felt like a day," she said softly, "but to the rest of us, it was an eternity."
Kura sat back on the bed, his head spinning. Two weeks. An entire half-month of his life gone in silence. And yet, something inside him felt… different. Stronger. Sharper. There was a weight, a pressure beneath his skin—like the lingering echo of the book's power, pulsing faintly in his veins.
The following days were unbearable. Everywhere Kura went, eyes followed.
"Isn't that the boy who collapsed in the library?"
"They say he was cursed by the Frost Witch."
"No… I heard he's her familiar. That's why she never leaves his side."
But there were darker whispers too, ones that made Kura's stomach churn.
"You've noticed, haven't you? The way Frost follows him everywhere. Almost like… she's afraid to leave him."
"Afraid? No. It's worse than that. He's her slave."
"…Slave? What do you mean?"
"They say he bound her. That's why she's protecting him. She has no choice—he's her master now."
The words spread like wildfire, cruel and venomous. In the dining hall, students would glance between the two of them, whispering behind hands. In the corridors, conversations fell silent whenever they walked by.
Kura hated it. But what hurt more was the flicker of pain in Lila's eyes whenever she overheard. She never showed weakness to anyone else, but he could see it in the way her shoulders tensed, the way her gaze dropped for the briefest moment before she rebuilt her icy mask. For someone who had fought so hard to prove she wasn't just a cursed witch, being branded as someone's "slave" was a wound far deeper than Kura had words for.
One evening, after another long day of whispers and sidelong stares, they sat together in the courtyard. The wind carried the smell of damp stone, the lanterns flickering in the growing dark.
Kura's hands curled into fists. "Lila… I'm sorry."
She blinked, surprised. "Sorry? For what?"
"For all of this," he muttered, refusing to meet her eyes. "The rumors. The way they look at you now. You don't deserve it. You've protected me more times than I can count, and yet… because of me, they're calling you my slave. It's not fair."
Lila was silent for a long moment. Then she gave a soft, bitter laugh. "Fair? Nothing about this academy, or this world, has ever been fair to me, Kura. Rumors are… just another wound to carry."
Kura turned toward her sharply. "No. I won't let that stand. I promise you, Lila—when I'm stronger, strong enough to protect both of us—I'll tell them the truth. I'll shut their mouths myself."
Her silver eyes widened. For once, she looked almost fragile, caught off guard by his intensity. "…And until then?" she whispered.
He took a breath, steadying himself. "…Until then, we endure. Together."
The words hung in the night air between them. For the first time, Lila's mask cracked not from pain, but from something else. Something gentler. A faint, almost reluctant smile touched her lips.
"Endure, huh?" she murmured. "I think I can live with that."
And as the lanterns flickered, their shadows stretched long across the courtyard—two silhouettes sitting side by side, bound not by chains, but by an unspoken promise.
That night, however, peace proved to be nothing more than an illusion.
When Kura closed his eyes, the darkness was no longer empty. Shapes moved there—wisps of shadows, broken whispers of the boy's voice from the book. And deeper still, a presence. Heavy. Watching. Waiting.
He woke in a cold sweat, gripping his chest where the book had pierced him. The outline of the secret door burned faintly in his mind. He had power now—something dangerous, something the shadows themselves feared.
But with that power came the echo of a terrifying truth.
If the door could only be opened by humans… then one of their kind had already chosen to stand with the shadows.
And Kura, whether he liked it or not, was now at the center of it all.